i will be your shield!

[lionhardt-lindholm]

aratask​:

He looked up from the pile right in the middle of tossing away a large ornamental hairpin with a snowflake attached.

“Oh sure, no worries!” He hopped up on his feet and quickly tied the bandanna over her wound.

“Worst part of this weight loss technique! Makes ya feel kinda helpless at the start…” He paused, inspecting the wound. Just a lump left. Bandage covering the whole thing. She must have just been to the medics. She… Smelled like the place. Yish, sterile, florescent lights, needles. Did she rush out of there to see him? Would explain why she still bled… The stitching must have complained. It should be fine though. That’s a relief.  “BUT! You won’t have to anymore! Once we make a shiny new arm for ya! Better than that ol’ flesh thing! Built in… Bottle openers…” He grinned at her, backing over to his desk. It was cluttered so to be a courteous host he put his arm down and shoved it all on the floor with one big swoop. He happily put down some blueprint paper and pencils when he caught himself.

 “Ahhh-taken that’s why yer even here?!”

Hell, he got her to smile.

Brigitte was coming down from a mix of painkillers, fury, and a pity party, and finally she felt her back loosen up on her and let her smile again. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

“They offered me a new one,” she explained. “But if I’m going to need a new one, I want to make it myself. If I know it by heart, I’ll be able to fix it. And since I’m the one doing all the fixing anyway...”

She wasn’t about to start on her anxious mixed feelings about the group she worked for (worked with?), but she was pretty sure her point was obvious.

[aratask-archived]

He was… Puzzled. Why would she come to him? She had… Tons of them Overwatch people around her! A grand old… BIG family! They had prosthetic limbs and… Eyes and whatnot… He looked at his own arm when she mentioned it. “Oh… Oh! Uh-YEAH! I did!” Well she didn’t go to the OVERWATCH people! She went to HIM! And he had to keep her on the hook while he had her!! “Leg too in fact! I uh- But, Lindholm, yer bleedin’ out!” He dragged her inside and pushed her down on a chair by his desk. “I should have somethin’ around to wrap that nasty wound up!“ Junkrat jumped face first into one of the many piles of trash in his room, throwing item after item over his back. Clothes, other people’s clothes, cups….

[lionhardt-lindholm]

She blinked a few times, then turned to her arm-- shoulder-- whatever the fuck. “Shit,” she mumbled. She hadn’t even realized she was still bleeding. She must’ve left from the medbay in way more of a huff than she’d thought. She knew she’d end up paying for that later.

“Here, hold on.” She tugged her bandana off from around her leg and moved it to her shoulder, holding it up against the wound. After a moment of thought, she knew that holding it up was the best she could do. She couldn’t tie it off herself. 

Brigitte grimaced, already mad that she had to start asking others for help. “Can you... tie this?”

[lionhardt-lindholm]

Reinhardt: The sacred inflatable hammer has popped. I will be holding a ceremony mourning my fallen comrade.

[lionhardt-lindholm]

aratask​:

Junkrat looked through his fingers, trying to line up a painting to be perfectly straight on the wall… He had not used nails and instead taped the home made work of art (a raccoon being run over, oils on cardboard canvass) and it slid down the wall… Coming to a pause…. Crooked as can be… Almost touching the floor.

“Ah… Perfect..!” The knock on his door made him jump and he quickly darted over to answer it. Brigitte? The Swede with the testy dad? What could she want? Complain about the noise? Whatever it was, Junkrat decided to act COOL AND COLLECTED! She was bound to like that! Make a friend! It would be fun! Flinging the door open, he leaned over, resting casually on the door frame. “Hey.” Brigitte was taller than he remembered. She looked kinda worked up. Oh. “Your ah… Arm’s missin there. D’ya notice?”

Brigitte took a moment before opening her mouth again. She knew her anger was still showing, but she was also a bit baffled at the greeting he’d offered her.

“I... yes. That’s why I’m here, actually.” She weakly gestured to his mechanized arm. “Am I correct in hearing that you made this yourself?” God, was that rude? She had no other way to address the issue other than saying it directly. Maybe he’d appreciate that? He seemed like someone who would appreciate honesty...right?

[lionhardt-lindholm]

Brigitte stormed down the halls of the Gibraltr base, leaving the medical bay behind. She was mixed with indignant fury, righteous anger, and exhaustion, and the only step forward she could take was by doing something she hated-- talking to someone she didn’t know. She was never good at meeting new people, or chatting with people she knew in passing, but this was something she had to do. Without her arm, and with the only option presented to her being a new one gifted to her by the medical staff, she knew that she had to step past her comfort zone.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door that she knew belonged to the junker. “It’s Brigitte. We need to talk.”

@aratask